


YOU ARE NOT REAL

by castielcampbell



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Other, pure unadulterated whoomp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 16:38:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielcampbell/pseuds/castielcampbell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Steve find Bucky in an old abandoned factory in Brooklyn going through some serious withdrawals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	YOU ARE NOT REAL

They found him in an empty warehouse in Brooklyn. They heard the gun shots before they saw him though. 

As they approached Steve took out his shield and Sam Ducked crouched down low.

"You’re. Not.  _REAL!"_  Came the desperate bellow, each word punctuated by a gunshot.

 _"YOU’RE. NOT. REAL_!" As they got closer the words became louder.

Steve held his hand up. “Get down low, stay behind me, no fast movements. It’s like Stark said, there’s no telling what is in his system or what kind of withdrawals he’s going through.” He whispered.

"Don’t gotta tell me twice, Cap."

They both ducked down with Steve holding the shield in front of him.

 _"YOU’RE. NOT. REAL!_ " He screamed, pulling the trigger with each word, the bullet ricocheted of the shield, making Sam curse softly.

He was hallucinating. Steve Rogers, the young punk that couldn’t say no to a fight, all gangly arms and legs and asthma was striding down the hall towards him. But he knew this tactic. They’d done this to him before. Given him a hallucinogen, made him see things that weren’t there, weren’t real, and heard their laughter when it disappeared. Even when he didn’t know the boys name, he knew he wasn’t real. Hydra wouldn’t let him be real, because the boy cared. And no one cared about the asset.

"Bucky! We’re coming down the hall!" Steve called out as the neared the corner.

 _ **"YOU’RE."**_  BLAM. " _ **NOT**_!" BLAM " ** _REAL_**!!" His voice frantically bellowed.

Every shot made the boy turn to vapor. If the boy couldn’t get close to him they won’t laugh and call him pathetic and put him back in the chair.

_**"YOU’RE"** _

TING

_**"NOT!"** _

TING

_**"REAL!!"** _

TING

The bullets ricocheted off the shield and into the wall. Steve tilted the shield up so that no bullets would ricochet back at his friend.

There was a shield now, but the shield meant something. Something that caught in his throat. Something that made his heart wrench in his chest. The shield was not real, it meant something, it meant caring, it wasn’t real.

" _ **YOU’RE. NOT. REAL**_!" Ting. Ting. Ting.

The shield passed the small lanky boy. It was getting closer. It wasn’t real. Couldn’t be real. Because he wanted it to be real.

" _ **YOU’RE NOT REAL!**_ " Ting. Ting. Ting.

"Jesus, how many bullets that thing have?" Sam hissed.

"I don’t know, hopefully not much more." Steve hissed back.

They were close, they were right on him, they’d just past his feet.

"James? I need you to put the gun down."

 _"You’renotreal. You’renotreal. You’renotreal."_   He whispered frantically.

Steve lowered the shield as they came up next to him. “Hey, hey Bucky… James… I’m right—”

 _"You're not real_." He whimpered, raising the gun and pulling the trigger.

Click. Click. Click.

Sam collapsed against the wall. Steve shuddered with relief.

Empty. The gun was finally empty.

Steve grabbed his wrist and lowered the gun.

"It’s okay, Bucky. I’ve got you." He whispered, patting his human arm gently.

Bucky looked at the man, stared at the hand. “You’re …  real?” He whispered hesitantly.

"Yes, Buck, I’m real."

Bucky grabbed his arm, grabbed his arm tight, his fingers digging into his arm.  _ **“Pleasedon’tletthemtakemeback. Pleasedon’tletthemtakemeback.”**_  He pleaded softly, his eyes begging for mercy.

Steve smiled, a real genuine smile. “No one is taking  you back. I  _swear._ " If his voice cracked a little, Sam never mentioned it. He turned to his friend. "Call it, would ya?"

Sam nodded as he pulled out his smartphone. “Hey Stark, it’s Sam Wilson. We found him. Yeah. Could you send a ride, cause this is a bad hood to be carrying around a traumatized POW…. Yeah… see you in a few.”

Steve looked over his shoulder, Bucky was resting against his shoulder, nuzzling his chest whispering “Realrealrealreal..” over and over like a mantra.

"He said him and Rhodey will bring a jet right outside."

"Good. Thank you, Sam… for everything."

"Ah man, don’t thank me till the jobs over. And this job, it’s just begun."


End file.
